All Hail Hydra
by Streaks of Hail
Summary: SHIELD was gone, the shell of what it used to be. Ward was a backstabber, Skye was angry. Fitz was abandoned, May was tender. Coulson was stressed. And Simmons was Hydra. (An AU season two where Simmons is with Hydra).
1. Flowers

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of SHIELD, and never will, unfortunately.

**A/N: **

Alright, so this story is probably going to be fairly short. It's not anything drastic, just a little something for me to do when I get bored, honestly. So tell me what you think about it! Also, this is set after the season one finale, so if you haven't seen it yet, there will no doubt be spoilers. Thank you, and enjoy!

**CHAPTER ONE: Flowers**

The remote office was silent; a rare occasion for the normally bustling facility known as one of the top secret Hydra bases. Granted, there were only two people in the office at the time, as she had forbidden anyone else from coming in. Important business, she had said. Sly, beautiful Raina and a very familiar bio-chemist of certain origin were sitting on opposite ends of the desk. It was a late Wednesday evening, not that the day was of particular importance. Right now, the focus was all on the tense conversation between the two woman.

Raina leaned forward on the desk, tilting her head almost innocently at the guest seated across from her. "So, what do you say, Simmons? Are you up for it?"

It was a long while before Jemma Simmons -graduate of Sci-Ops with flying colours and current excellent biochemist - replied. Raina noted that the scientist's eyes flickered to everywhere but her own eyes. "I didn't know you were with Hydra."

Raina smiled, leaning back from the desk and getting up from her chair. In the silence, her heels made startlingly loud noises. "I'm not here for the cause, Simmons," she corrected, eyes glittering. "I'm here for the science. For the Clairvoyant, you could say." Raina plucked up a small paper weight that she'd had on her desk - formerly of the man who used to work here, she didn't need to get into more information about what happened to him - twisting it around and around in her long fingers.

Simmon's head snapped up and her brow creased in confusion. It was probably the most reaction she had gotten all evening, Raina reflected. At least she was getting somewhere.

"Garret wasn't a real Clairvoyant," Simmons noted clearly. The young woman still had her lab coat on, fresh from the lab of the Playground. "And he's dead." _Well, at least we know she still has her brains. _

Raina almost rolled her eyes, but she could see that Simmons was now intrigued. "Well, Garret was a bit of a let down, wasn't he? I believe in a real Clairvoyant, Jemma." She leaned with one hand on the desk, staring intensely at Simmons. "A... prophesier. Someone who can predict the future. I believe of beings from another world -"

"Well, we've already met the Asgardians, and-"

"Yes, we've met them. But who knows what other life is out there? We've been living on planet Earth for so long, and only now are we beginning to discover other life. Powerful deities, Simmons. You must understand. You're a bio-chemist, you have a natural drive to find out more about other races." Raina's voice had become a light lilt, something which seemed to make Simmons severely uncomfortable, although she didn't seem afraid to speak up.

"But why?" Although she's nervous, she's clearly curious. It leads Raina to wondering why Garret had chosen to recruit young Jemma Simmons. He'd had the plots of a genius, even before he had gone off his rocker with the special serum.

"Why? I want to know what's inside of me, Simmons. I don't think I'm quite like you, in all respects." As a dry smirk edged it's way onto her features, Simmons began to look scared, horror creeping up onto her face.

Something inside of Raina clicked, and she twisted her head away from Simmons, pretending to study a painting carefully. "How was the field trip, Simmons?" At her confused expression, Raina decided to elaborate more. "See lots of marine life down there?"

Simmons expression became strangely set, and her eyes darkened. Oh, anger. It was an emotion Raina had seen displayed on many men, though rarely on Simmons. She filed the information away neatly, as Simmons spoke. "That wasn't-"

"Anyway," Raina brushed it off quickly, turning away and settling back into her chair. "What's the answer? Yes? Or no? You know the consequences, don't you? I'm not forcing you to do anything."

Raina can't help but smile slyly at the comment. The truth was, she _wasn't_ forcing her fellow agent to do anything. It was entirely up to her. But of course; when faced with the consequences it was obvious what most would opt for. The _incentives system_, as some had taken to calling it. To Simmon's credit, it was a very long time before she answered. The Sci-Ops graduate looked to be having an internal battle with herself, troubled emotions flickering on her facial expressions.

"I'll do it," was the quiet answer.

Raina's grin became fully fledged and she blinked in an innocent fashion at Simmons. "Well done. I knew you would come through and do the correct thing." She tugged open a drawer and pulled out a small, compact black gadget. Gently, she slid it over to Simmons. "It's the latest technology," she explained casually. "Even better than our dear little engineer's tinker toys." To top it off, she threw Simmons a subtle wink. A feeling of odd delight flooded through her at Simmon's stricken expression. "Perhaps you can share ideas with him later on?"

"Wh-What is it?" She wasn't looking so brave any more, her deliberate movements showing clear doubt as she slowly reached for the object and picked it up.

"An encrypted ear-piece. Clear, high quality voice receivers. You'll be able to hear our commands at the very best quality. We'll send you instructions. If anyone gets suspicious and tries to hack into it, they'll be sent a very fast acting virus. Clever, isn't it?"

The double agent was studying the device carefully, gaging it with experience. As uncertain as she looked, no doubt Simmons was amazed by the technology. "It blends in perfectly at the Playground," she said, her tone clearly surprised. "How did you know?"

"Oh, it's simple, really," Raina said breezily. "Wear this at all times, alright? Remember our incentives system, won't you?"

Simmons looked down at the ear piece, carefully slotting it into her ear. "What is the first task?"

"This mission is.. a farewell present for dear Garret, you could say. He awfully liked being a shepherd. I think it's about time to rescue his dear little sheep."

Simmons obviously got the gist her sly little comment, because she nodded dully and rose from her seat. "I'll get on it, Raina."

"Please, call me Flowers," Raina said with an air of false pleasantness. She watched carefully as Simmons left, pausing until the genius was almost gone. "Oh, and Simmons?"

"Yes?"

"Hail Hydra."


	2. Needle

**A/N's:**

A bit more action in this one - goody, everyone loves a bit of action, right? This chapters a tiny bit more sad and dark, but that's kind of the aim I'm going for here. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading.

**CHAPTER TWO: Needle**

Simmons was uncertain. That was probably - most definitely - the best way to put it. There were other emotions, of course, but this was the one that stuck out the most. She had been dropped off at the Playground, with a small case by her side. It had been the whole reason she'd been allowed out of the secret base in the first place. Coulson had wanted some things collected, and while she had been talking to Raina, Hydra had arranged some people to collect it for her. The perfect cover, some might say. It also helped that the pilot was brainwashed.

She stared at the case, stepping off the small plane and into the extensive garage of the Playground. Skye and Triplett were waiting for her, standing not far away. Simmons offered them a small smile, although her insides were churning. She felt almost sick.

"Hey Simmons! What took you so long?" Skye questioned, as Simmons made her way over. In her hands she had a lanyard, one of which Simmons knew was a tracker. Even in their own base, they had to be safe.

Simmons averted her gaze - something she knew was the number one no-no in lying. "There were some delays," she lied. "How's Fitz?"

Tripplet bent down to take the case from her, as Skye handed her the lanyard. "The same as usual," he said, regret obvious in his voice. "No recognition. But he's not showing any pain, either."

"Well, that's good," Simmons nodded, forcing a bright smile at the two. She hoped that they wouldn't see through her guise, but she suspected that they wouldn't. Jemma Simmons had been trained in the arts of lying and acting. Hydra had made it her top priority, after she had failed her very first mission, blustering obviously. Ever since, Simmons had learned to use it to her advantage. All that flustering - not entirely real, although she still got quite agitated when lying. Her team had certainly bought it however, even dear Fitz.

A painful jolt of guilt flashed through her, and she reached her hand up to her hair. To anyone else, it would look like she was sweeping her hair aside, but she knew that the slightest graze of contact would activate the delicate device in her ear.

"I've got to go," she blurted out suddenly, immediately feeling that she had given the game away. No matter how much training Simmons had received, she wouldn't ever be a perfect liar.

"Fitz is fine," Skye said, raising an eyebrow. Her expression soon changed to sympathetic, and she pointed with her left hand. "We had to move him further down the hall."

Simmons gave the hacker a relieved smile, glad that Skye had mistaken her accident for worry for Fitz. It was partly true, but she couldn't tell Skye what she'd been doing behind her back - behind all of their backs. She couldn't let them find out, not after what had happened with Ward.

"Thank you, Skye." She was off down the corridor without another word, unable to look them in the eyes properly. Simmons had joined up with Hydra not long ago. It had been an act of weakness, of self-preservation. It had been when she'd caught the virus from the Chitauri helmet. She'd been so desperate.. so unwilling to die. And so, unbeknownst to the others, she'd sent out a signal. A call of sorts, asking help from whoever knew how to fix the virus. Hydra had answered that call, promising her solutions if she swore alliance to them. Of course back then, she'd had no idea that it was Hydra.

Even after her and Fitz had worked out the anti-serum, it was Hydra who had warned Ward of her sacrifice - her attempt to save the team. He'd received word in his ear, and that was how he had known exactly when and where to rush into the scene. To put it in Garret's words, she was too valuable to be thrown away.

Simmons had tried to back out, of course. After she'd found out, after Ward had told her everything. But she'd had no choice. They'd threatened everyone she knew and loved. They'd promised her and Fitz immunity, although the same couldn't be said for the rest of Coulson's team.

_Coulson's team. Not my team, not anymore. I haven't been a part of this team for a while now. _

"Simmons."

She snapped to immediate action, grinding to a halt and looking around anxiously. It took her a few moments to realise that the voice wasn't coming from beside her, but from the small piece in her ear.

"I'm here," Simmons said softly, ducking into the sparse room that had been established as her bunker.

"Good. It has to happen tonight, alright?"

Simmons frowned, sudden anxiety pulling at her heart. "Tonight?" It couldn't be so soon, she wasn't ready. She hadn't prepared herself, hadn't-

"Yes, Simmons. Don't let us down. Agent Grant Ward is free by tomorrow morning, alright?" Raina's voice is astonishingly clear, despite the incredibly long distance. _Something Fitz would surely appreciate_, Simmons thought bitterly.

"Flowers-"

"Maybe if you do well enough, I'll give you a gold star." There's a small laugh down the phone. "Bye Simmons." Then there's a faint click, and Simmons is left alone once more.

**...**

The silence wasn't helping in the slightest. It was the evening, about midnight. Or at least she assumed so. It was hard to tell time whilst in the middle of a secret base. Although it was late, Simmons could still hear faint noises. The echoes of Eri- Billy Koenig playing a game of some sort. Someone crying. _Skye_. Simmons' heart twisted, and she had to pause in her steps for a few moments to prepare herself.

_Is this a good idea? No. But it's not as if I have a choice._ Her mind whirled, and she wavered uncertainly by the door to the hallway like an idiot. She can almost imagine what everyone's reactions would be. _Coulson will be disappointed. May will most likely be furious, in her silent, resilient way. Skye - oh poor Skye. Ward's broken her in so many ways, even though she hides it so well. And Fitz_. Little Leopold Fitz, who has been her lab partner for years, her constant companion, her friend. He'd be shell-shocked, that would be certain. _It's likely he won't remember anything about me anyway._ And while that thought is heart-wrenchingly sad, perhaps it would be for the better.

_Enough, Simmons_, she told herself. She was a bio-chemist for SHIE- Hydra. She would not mope around. She had to be efficient and quick. _They'll never even find out_. But something told her that things weren't going to be the same when she went down to talk to Ward.

**...**

Her lanyard was left in her room, and she had on her only the bare necessities. She'd shed her usual pristine lab coat, instead donning some of her more comfortable clothes. The thought _easier to run_ slipped into her mind. The ear piece was in place, and she was now slipping through the various corridors in the light.

Simmons held nothing in her hands, although she could almost feel the small pistol attached to her belt weighing her down. Every step seemed to echo like a whole stampede of Hydra agents. It was with tension that she made her way quietly down the many stairs to the small holding cell that the Playground conveniently held. Coulson had ordered for Ward to be kept at the Playground, saying something about the fact that he didn't trust any of the other facilities. It made Simmons' job easier, and yet so much harder at the same time.

The amount of locks on the door were ridiculous. But Simmons wasn't known as a genius for nothing. She was in soon enough, staring at Ward's turned back.

"Hello." It was supposed to be quiet, but it rung loudly in the dark cell.

"Simmons?" The look on his face was so surprised, Simmons almost smiled. A look of guilt clouded over his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Simmons only nodded. In some ways, she understood Ward. He was only doing his job. Just like she was. Some part of her was still resentful at him for throwing them off the plane, almost costing them their lives. Most likely costing Fitz his ingenuity.

"We don't have much time," she warned.

"You're breaking me out? In a top secret facility?"

Simmons dug around in her pocket, before finally extracting a small ear piece identical to her own. He leaned forward to study it as she set it in his hand.

"Who from? Garret's dead - the organisation's gone."

Simmons proceeded to pull out a small picture. On it was a crudely drawn flower, in the colour of red. Ward's eyes dawned in realisation, and he slotted the piece into his ear. Immediately, Raina's voice flooded through both of their pieces.

"Now, now Ward. Hydra's not a one man plan. You didn't honestly think Garret was the brains of the operations, right? No - Hydra is working for the Clairvoyant. The real Clairvoyant. And the sad thing is, we still need you. So it's your lucky day. Simmons, escort Ward to the destination we talked about. Keep your identity a secret, we wouldn't want Coulson to be without a scientist, would we?"

Then Raina was gone, and Ward snapped his head up suddenly. "Fitz is dead?"

"Coma induced," she answered tightly. "If, or when he does wake, it's highly improbable that he'll retain his old scientific abilities." Simmons shouldn't be talking so.. scientific, but fear does that to her, and there's certainly a lot of fear.

Ward looked as if he was going to speak, but instead stood up, wincing slightly as he did so. Simmons' eyes flickered down to his foot - the one May had stapled. She remembered coming in per Coulson's orders to disinfect them. They hadn't talked then, Simmons hadn't plucked up the courage and Ward hadn't seemed particularly inclined to speak either. Of course back then Simmons had at least had hope for Fitz. This time, she couldn't quite say the same.

Ward moved to the door, and Simmons inhaled sharply, suddenly lurching forward, words flying from her mouth in a fit of anxiety. "Ward, no-"

It was too late. Alarms blared, classic warning lights flashing repeatedly and bathing everything in an eery red wash. Simmons jumped into flustered mode, eyes widening and adrenaline taking over. "The door's been rigged for your DNA and footprint, in the off chance that you should escape!" The reason for his bare feet - Simmons and Triplett had installed it themselves.

It's with a rush of urgency that she grabbed his arm, and suddenly the two of them were running. She was faintly aware of yelling coming from somewhere around the compound. They were making a racket. Wasn't like it mattered anyway.

The two fled through the facility, with Simmons taking the lead, winding through various corridors - and is it just her or all do the corridors suddenly look the same - their feet squeaking on the floor, her hair flying loosely behind her.

Hurried footsteps thumped along the corridor behind them, and Simmons knew without a doubt that it was someone tailing them - most likely May.

Ward slammed against a metal door, with Simmons futile attempts to help. And then suddenly the door was open, and the air was suffocatingly warm - they were in the middle of a desert, Simmons observed somewhere in the back of her mind. There was a silent hovercraft waiting, with a ladder hanging down to access it. She shoved Ward towards it, and then two are stumbling in their haste.

Then suddenly she heard a bang and the breeze of a bullet whizzing past her head. Simmons ducked and twisted. Of course, it's May, who's quickly advancing. She wanted to apologise, but Ward was only beginning to climb the ladder. She tore the gun from her belt, pointing it at May with shaking hands.

But May's already aiming, flicking back the trigger and - a figure barrelled out the door and stopped her - a familiar figure with flying brown hair. "Simmons!"

Skye's cry sounded wrenched, betrayed, and along with it Simmons' heart knotted tightly.

May was firing at the hovercraft repeatedly. Skye reached for her gun, and Simmons hadn't realised that she'd been crying until she felt a tear drip off her cheek and fall to the ground.

Coulson charged out of the building next, a weapon in his arms. Simmons knew her time was up, and she stood still. "Simmons?" His voice sounded aghast, and she knew why. She smiled weakly at him, eyes flickering in emotion.

"Hello Coulson, May." She shifted her gaze to Skye, lowering the pistol in her hands. "Skye." Her voice wasn't triumphant, or smug or even relieved. It was.. sad. Dejected. And Simmons' thought that it was the perfect tone. Dejected. Sad. Guilty.

It was suddenly quiet, and May switched her gun to point at Simmons. Her eyes were narrowed - waiting. Waiting for Coulson's order. "The 'craft's gone. They left her."

Sure enough, Simmons can't hear anything except the tense silence.

"Why are you doing this, Simmons? If they're blackmailing you-"

Coulson cut off as he suddenly crumpled to the ground, along with May and Skye. Standing behind their bodies were a handful of Hydra agents, with Raina standing behind them.

Raina smiled wryly, stepping forward as the soldiers cleared off and started back to wherever their vehicle was. "You're braver than I expected, Simmons."

"I wasn't being brave."

"You did a good job," Raina continued. "If it hadn't been for Ward, you would have gotten away smoothly. I think you deserve this, don't you?" And for the first time, Simmons noticed the small black box that Raina held out. She took it slowly, opening it. Inside is a small needle, filled with a sort of grey-ish clear liquid.

"See? You hold up your end of the deal, and I hold up mine. Why don't you leave them a little note? You know what I mean." Simmons knew perfectly well what Flowers meant, but she was slow to move. On the box was a small button, red in colour and with a picture of sound waves.

She pressed the button after a long moment of delay. "Inject.. Inject this into Fitz's neck. It'll help. You have my word." Not that they could trust her word anymore. She released the button, wishing that her voice hadn't cracked.

Raina raised an eyebrow. "You're forgetting something."

Simmons reached for the button again. "Hail Hydra."


	3. Everything

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **So, this chapter was a long time in the running. Sorry about that! But now that season two has officially been released, I can safely say that this story should be fairly closely interwined with season two events, starting from the next chapter. Obviously, it will end differently, and it will be different, as Simmons and Ward are on the loose, but.. let's just say, keep an eye out for hair cuts and new characters (some of which may or may not include Lance Hunter).

**CHAPTER THREE: Everything**

"Why didn't they kill us?"

"Phil.."

They were sitting in Coulson's disorganised office. Not everyone. Just his trusted team, now reduced only to four. Him, May, Skye. You could count Triplett as well. Rather new to the team, but he had proved his worth and was certainly a credit to the team. Fitz, was.. well, out of action. Still in a coma. He hadn't moved an inch since they had pulled him from that hyperbaric chamber what seemed like forever ago. It made his heart constrict even just thinking about the young scientist.

"They didn't kill us, May. Why not? They want something from us."

"You don't think there's another wolf in the herd, sir?" Trip questioned, standing a fair bit away from May. He looked distressed, but then again Coulson was sure that distress summed up the whole team's emotions at that precise moment. Simmons's betrayal had rocked their disorganised world. Sweet, honest Simmons, working for their worst enemy? Unimaginable. And yet here they were. He was still half expecting to wake up from another bloodcurdling nightmare.

Coulson warily looked at May and Triplett. Skye wasn't present, off somewhere to run over some things. They knew she was safe, the whole base was on lockdown. It had been decided without discussion to give her some space. He was confident that she could handle herself. She had proved that in the last few days. "I don't know, Trip. Why don't you tell me?"

Triplett looked certain, focusing his gaze onto Coulson's. "I'm loyal to SHIELD, sir."

"SHIELD is in pieces right now." Coulson couldn't help but be wary of the charismatic young man. Garret had been a backstabbing traitor, and his trainee had turned out the same way. What was to say that Triplett wasn't the same?

"I'm loyal to this team. To the cause. Garret and Ward are traitors, but I promise you, I am not the same." The two held gazes for a long, tense moment, until finally Coulson gave a brief nod of acceptance.

"We need to interrogate the agents," Coulson said eventually, leaning back in his seat with a heavy sigh. "Sweep the place clean, search every crack. I don't care how much they complain, we need it done. The place has to be secure, because we can't.. we can't afford another betrayal."

"What about that box? The.. injection thing inside. What do we do with it?" Triplett questioned, frowning in confusion.

Coulson sighed and pressed his fingers to his temples. "I don't know. The recording said to inject it into Fitz's neck."

"We can't trust it," May stated firmly. She looked so adamant in that fact that Coulson was surprised. Didn't May have any hope for the tiny bit of good in Simmons anymore? But what she was saying did make sense. Simmons was a traitor now. No matter how much she cared for Fitz, there was still a very big chance that the injection was a trap. That couldn't risk it.

"You're right. We need someone to run it through the lab before we can even think about it," Coulson agreed. But of course, there were no available scientists now, let alone the required resources or time for anyone else to do it.

"And Ward?" May asked tightly, standing firmly beside him. She looked as normal as ever, but Coulson knew that that was how the Calvary functioned. She buried her emotions so far down that one day, they would all implode and backfire. Coulson worried for that very day, when there was nothing he could possibly do.

"There's nothing we can do about that. He's gone."

"But Simmons installed..."

"The tracker," Coulson realised, straightening up. When they had first arrested Ward and decided to keep him safe at the Playground, they had not gone cheap on the extra safety measures. Security guards, cameras, monitors, sensors, a tracker injected into his leg. Coulson was beginning to see hope, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let that hope go. He was going to cling onto it for as long as he possibly could. "Do you think they'll leave it in?"

"Who knows?" May said honestly, giving a small shrug of her shoulders.

"But it's worth trying," Triplett added, looking strangely hopeful and calm. Or at least, going by the current predicament they were in at the moment.

"We need to see if we can follow the tracker's route, get the location. Where's Skye?" The silence that followed was worrying. Very, very worrying. Coulson stiffened, and he scanned the room, fingers sweeping across his desk. Finally, he turned his head to look up at May and Triplett.

His next words were deliberate, the tension in the room thick. "Where is the injection?"

...

Skye held the box in her grasp, her hands trembling. She hated that. She didn't want her hands to shake, she didn't want to be seen as a coward. Skye wanted to be strong. She had to be strong, because there wasn't anyone else to be strong for her now, not anymore.

_"Inject.. inject this into Fitz's neck. It'll help. You have my word. Hail Hydra." _

She kept pressing the button over and over again, listening to the recording with gritted teeth and a strange sort of mixed hate. Simmons couldn't be Hydra. Not Simmons, not the sunny bio-chemist would could barely lie her way out of a shoe-box. First Garret, then Ward and now Simmons. It was enough. It couldn't be true.

And yet, here she was, sitting next to Fitz's motionless figure with nothing but the sound of monitors and heartwrenching recordings for her company.

She opened the box carefully, setting it on her lap as she stared at the prize in the container. It looked like any old injection, although the vial was filled with.. something. It was pale grey in colour, resembling a clear liquid, and it almost looked like slime. Skye would have cracked some joke about Halloween if she wasn't so upset, and sktracted with current, more pressing matters.

The injection was cold to the touch, and she held it up to the light warily, staring at it in cautious curiosity. Coulson had told the team not to do anything with the box, that it was too dangerous to even attempt without looking further into it. But looking at Fitz's pale face, seeing his condition.. Skye wanted nothing more than to just use the injection and hope for the best. Nothing was the same without Fitz. Everything was all too serious, and now that Simmons was gone.. she shook her head immediately, forcing her mind off of the betrayal.

It would be so easy.. Skye had broken rules before, she could easily do it again. There was no one here to stop her, after all. Coulson and the others said that the injection was probably a trap, but Skye refused to believe that. There was no way.. just because Simmons was Hydra, didn't mean she couldn't care for Fitz. Skye didn't believe that Simmons had been cold-hearted Hydra all along. She _couldn't_ be.

Slowly, Skye stood up, placing the box on the side table and lifting the injection into her hands carefully, moving her hand up to Fitz's neck. She hadn't ever done this sort of thing before, but she knew how it worked. She'd seen enough movies. Besides, how hard could it possibly be?

"You better come back, Fitz," Skye threatened, placing her finger on the button. "Come back and make things _right_."

And then she pushed down, watching with anticipation as the liquid slowly drained away.

"Skye! Don't-" The storm of footsteps stopped at the door as Coulson, May and Triplett burst into the room. Skye looked up guiltily, pulling the injection out and taking a sharp step back.

There was silence for a long moment, as Coulson's gaze flickered around the room. Then, in one smooth movement, he stepped forward and ripped the utensil from her grasp. The clatter as it hit the ground seemed to echo.

"What have you done?" He was angry. So, so angry. She didn't regret it, but that didn't mean she wasn't scared.

"I used the injection," Skye answered truthfully. She caught sight of the rage in his eyes, and she took another step back.

"That was stupid, Skye! That could have been anything. _Anything_. This is Hydra we're talking about, they've probably filled the thing with posion. Or drugs. Or.. something. You don't know what they've done! Do you understand the consequences, Skye? You might have just killed Fitz," Coulson said, his voice low and hard.

"No," Skye retorted suddenly, shaking her head in sudden determination. "No, Fitz will be fine. Because I know that Simmons wouldn't kill Fitz. Simmons is good. She can't lie, and she's Fitz's _best friend_. Do you think she could have staged all that?" She was choking on her own words, but she couldn't honestly care less. "Simmons is being blackmailed. Or bribed. Or tortured. She could be struggling right now, and we're just sitting here, hating on her! She can't act, Coulson. She's not Hydra. _Please_."

"That's what we thought about Ward," Coulson said softly. And then suddenly Skye was crying, the tears falling freely from her eyes as she leaned against the wall for support. Surprisingly, it was May who stepped forward to comfort her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I hate Hydra," Skye shook her head at May, although she didn't push the other woman's arm away. "I hate them. They've taken _everything_."

"Not everything," May reminded gently. "You still have us."

Beeping started up suddenly, and the room froze. Suddenly, Triplett stepped around them swiftly, setting to work on the monitors. "Everything's accelerating," Triplett said in amazement, taking a step back. "His functions are starting back up, his.. whatever that drug was, it's working. It's a miracle. A miracle drug."

Coulson and Skye locked gazes instinctively. The term miracle drug was something that they were all too familiar with.

"He's.. he's stable," Triplett responded finally, shaking his head in what seemed like shock. "That's amazing. I think he's just sleeping now, and.."

He was cut off with abrupt coughing. But the coughing was coming from Fitz. The bed was surrounded immediately, with breaths held. Skye cleared her tear blurred eyes just in time to see familiar blue eyes blink open.

"He's awake."


	4. Snip

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **And so, we start to really delve into season two! Yay! I finally watched the episode last night, and let me just tell you.. it was amazing and heartbreaking, and everything else. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter, as the next one we'll be getting a bit more into the pace and really getting things moving. This chapter held a lot of May, but that's okay, because I really do love the Calvary. We may get a bit of Simmons action next chapter, but.. we'll see. I can't reveal too much, because.. spoilers. If you enjoyed, feel free to drop a review or a PM telling me, or asking any questions.

**CHAPTER FOUR: Snip**

"May. I want you to help me."

May looked surprised, turning around quickly to stare at Skye in concern. "If this is about Fitz-"

"No," Skye cut her off roughly, surprising even herself at her colder tone. She softened her stance and leaned against the door frame in defeat. "I.. I want you to train me. I don't want to be weak. When Ward and Simmons... The point is, I couldn't do anything. We could have gotten them if I hadn't been stupid. If I had only just ignored the..."

"Skye." To her surprise, May's voice was gentle as she rose from her spot on one of the the rickety seats, approaching Skye with a softer look. She flinched when May placed a hand on her shoulder, resisting the urge to jerk away violently. "There's nothing wrong with having feelings. Feelings are good. There's nothing wrong with feeling emotion."

"My _feelings_ got in the way," Skye shouted suddenly, taking a sharp step back and shoving May's hand from the shoulder. She could feel the tears prickling at her eyes, but she didn't want to cry. She refused to cry. This was what she had come to May for. Not to be a weakling. To be more like the Calvary. "My _feelings_ destroyed any chance we had, and now we're just on some.. some stupid, mad goose chase around the world for the people who used to be our _friends_."

May searched her gaze for a moment, and in that short time, understanding seemed to flicker through the senior agent's eyes. "I'm not going to tell you things are going to get better, Skye, because I don't know that for sure. Everything could go to hell. We could die five months from now, or three decades. We could die in the next five minutes. But feelings are not a bad thing, Skye. I learnt that the hard way. It's too late for me to change that now. But for you.. Feelings are human, Skye. It's only human."

"And what if I'm _not_ human?" There it was, out in the open for everyone to hear. The troubles that had been haunting her since the day Coulson and her had talked about everything. They stood in baited silence, staring each other down. In that moment, a million ideas and emotions ran through Skye's mind. Possibilities, chances. Ends and beginnings.

"Skye," May began quietly. "We're working on it. Whoever you are, whoever your parents were.. we'll figure it out. But right now, we have to concentrate on the more important details. Okay?"

Skye nodded slowly, her next words spilling out of her mouth in a barely distinguishable sentence. "I want you to train me."

"Skye-"

"I'm sick and tired of.. of being weak. Running away, looking to everyone else for the answers. I don't want to be fooled anymore, May." She stopped, almost choking on her words. "All that hurt, all that pain.. I don't want to feel it anymore."

May looked serious, opening her mouth to warn, "it doesn't work like that, Skye."

"I know. _Please_, May." The guilt hovered around her in a thick cloud, threatening to swallow her up. She needed help, she was going to crack if she didn't fix the problem. She needed a cure. May was that hope. She knew May's answer before the words even escaped the older woman's mouth, words of thanks lingering on her tongue.

"It won't be easy."

"I wasn't expecting it to be."

...

"What are we doing?" May had lead her into one of the unoccupied offices and sat her down on a stool in front of a large mirror. Skye stared in confusion as May turned her seat around so that she was facing away from the mirror.

"You want to become a different person?" May asked solemnly, raising an eyebrow. "We start with a new appearance for yourself." It was only when May tugged a pair of scissors from her pocket that Skye finally clued in, shaking her head in realisation.

"You're cutting my hair?"

"It's a tactical advantage. The shorter your hair, the less hazard it's going to be when you're on the field," May explained briefly, twisting the scissors in a way that would have made Skye nervous if she didn't have trust in the Calvary. "But it's more of a mental thing. If you want to be more brave, become more confident, a new appearance helps. It.. helps to wipe the slate clean. Become a new person, do all those things that you want to do."

May sounded all too experienced, and Skye felt a sudden pang of concern for May, because after everything that had happened, Skye hadn't ever considered checking if anyone else was doing okay. "Why don't _you_ change your appearance then?"

Her eyes looked regretful, but her words were kind when she spoke again. "How do you know I haven't already?" The silence that followed was enough to halt that line of conversation, and May held out the scissors. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to. No one is expecting you to. It can also be a lesson of resistance."

Skye reached up a hand to pull at her long locks of hair, deep in concentration. Did she want to cut her hair? Did she want to change the one thing that hadn't been jarred - her appearance?

"How did you learn to cut hair?" She relaxed her muscles and tilted her hair back for May.

A small smile curled its way onto May's features. "I wanted to be a hairdresser when I was a child."

Skye couldn't help but smile at the thought of a tiny Melinda May chopping carefully at a poor doll's hair.

_Snip_.

Skye watched dully as wisps of her hair floated gently to the ground.

_Snip_.

She tried desperately to avoid thinking about everything. _Fitz. Coulson. Simmons. Ward._

_Snip_.

Skye smiled when May turned the chair around to face the mirror. This, was the beginning of Agent Skye.

...

"You're leaving so early?" May watched patiently from her position by the door as Coulson paced around the room, packing his bags. He looked up when she spoke, giving her a tiny apologetic smile.

"I'm the Director now, May. That means-"

"-your duties and responsibilities come first," May finished, accompanying the words with a tight smile in his direction. "Yeah. I know."

Coulson looked guilty, but he turned away to continue packing, dropping items into his suitcase haphazardly. She couldn't help but notice the crease lines on his face, ones that hadn't been there before. She stepped inside the office carefully, her boots echoing loudly on the wooden floor and seeming to bounce off the walls.

"You've been gone for the last week, Phil. You've been overworking yourself, we don't get to see you anymore." May decided to be blunt and honest. There was no point avoiding the situation. She knew what was happening, and so did he. They needed him, but so did SHIELD. And right now, she knew who took more priority. She wished it was different.

"I'm sorry, Melinda. You know I would bring you with me, but you're our best specialist, and we can't afford-"

"I know," she answered with a taut smile, scooping up Coulson's phone and holding it out for him to take from her. He grabbed it quickly, but May stopped him before he could move off again. "Phil. I know that you're busy, but I want to stay in touch. Call me at least three times a week. That's an order. You may be the boss of an undercover agency, but I'm the boss of you."

Coulson looked like he was about to argue, but he stopped instead tilting his lips into a tiny smile. "You'll take care of Lola?"

May couldn't help but return the smile. She knew Coulson would abide by her rules - or at the very best, attempt to. "Of course. You won't be taking her with you?"

"I think they'd get suspicious if a guy from ecomony shipped a Corvette overseas," Coulson said mildly. "So, no." He turned away and clipped the case shut, slipping his phone inside his front pocket. It was at the last moment that he paused, tilting his head to look at her. "Look after the team. And Fitz.."

"I'll deal with that." May forced a grim smile, diverting her gaze from his. The road ahead was going to be a long, difficult journey, but if they played their cards right.. May was confident that Coulson would pull through. "Good luck."

"You too."

...

"You don't have to come with me, Skye. I can handle this on my own." May threw a look towards the doors of the medical room, where Fitz was knelt over a drawing pad, talking to one of the few doctors that they had.

"No. I'm coming with you. This is just the start, right?" Skye looked determined, and May felt another surge of approval for the younger woman. She really had grown out of her shell, even just in the last few days of residing at the Playground. "Fitz needs us."

May gave an accepting nod, and pushed open the doors of the lab. Immediately, the doctor jumped up, a tiny man with a bubbly attitude that reminded her all too much of Simmons. He murmured something unidentifiable to Fitz, before marching over to May and Skye with enthusiastic confidence.

"Agent May, Agent Skye! That.." the man shot a wary gaze to Fitz, stumbling over his words clumsily, "uh.. anyway, it worked miracles! He appears to have most of his memories back, and he can mostly speak and do all the normal functions. There is some bad news, however. The damage to his temporal lobe was very.. extensive. His cognitive functions will need.. therapy, by trained professionals."

"Professionals which we don't have," May countered dully.

"Yes, which may result in a bit of a problem. We'll need further testing to see how far the damage reall goes, but.."

"Can we talk to him?" May interrupted impatiently. "Alone?"

The doctor looked uncomfortable. Whenever someone wanted to talk alone, it was normally bad news. May knew from personal experience, and she hated to be the one delivering the news to Fitz. Then again, someone had to do it.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. I'll just.." he gestured vaguely down the corridor and scurried off, which left them alone with Fitz.

They neared slowly, and it was only when they were relatively close up that Fitz looked up and recognised them, his facial expressions clearing. "May, Skye."

"Oh, thank God," Skye breathed quietly beside her. "He remembers us."

"Fitz," May greeted gently, her eyes raking up and down his figure. He still seemed pale and weak, but nothing compared to the comatose man she had seen just yesterday. It really was a miracle, but that only worried her. What were Hydra's plans if they could lay their hands on these types of drugs? She watched carefully for any obvious side effects, but she couldn't safely say anything until he had been tested further and taken a week to rest up. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh, okay, actually," Fitz offered. It was eery, how normal he acted considering the events that had occured recently. "The doctor was just testing me on my... on my.." His face clouded in concentration, and he snapped his fingers, obviously stressed.

"Cognitive skills," Skye added helpfully.

"Yes! Yes, that. I was just about there," he smiled, but May could tell it was forced and fake. "I don't.. I don't think the results were good."

"You'll be fine, Fitz," May reassured, although she wasn't entirely sure if it was a lie. Somehow, Fitz getting better was worse. She had almost been hoping that he had lost his memory, as cruel as it sounded. At least that way, it would have been easier to deliver the news to him.

His head jerked up as he seemed to remember something, and for a moment he looked worried. "Where's Simmons?"

"Fitz.." she sighed, and his eyes flashed in alarm, his hand resting on the pad.

"What's wrong? Is she okay? Please tell me she's okay."

The words felt dry in her mouth, but she nodded reluctantly. "Simmons is alive. She's healthy." _Physically healthy, at least, _May couldn't help but think darkly.

"Good," Fitz murmured, his shoulders slumping relief. "Yeah, yeah, that's good. Because that's the most... the most.. important! Yes, the most important thing."

"That's not the only thing, Fitz," May began slowly. She took a cautious step forward, her stomach coiled up like a spring. She could only hope that Fitz would take the news well, although she didn't have any hope that he would. But it was best to just be blunt. Delivering it slowly was the worst way to do things. "Do you remember Ward? Yeah, well, he escaped. With Simmons."

"He took her?"

"No."

"You're saying.."

"I'm sorry, Fitz. Simmons is Hydra."

Fitz's eyes clouded, and May had just enough time to side-step as Fitz lashed out suddenly. "No. _No_, you're lying!" He turned to overthrow a table, the contents spilling over the floor with a clatter. Skye lunged forward to help him, but May held her back sharply. "You're lying. He took her, he must have! There's no way.. not Simmons, _no._." They could only watch as Fitz let out another cry of frustration and tore away at the lab.

"Please, Fitz. Stop! We're sorry." May turned as Skye spoke, the brunette girl's eyes filled with tears. May took another step forward, dodging neatly as Fitz attempted to shove her away.

"You're going to hurt yourself," May said sternly, stopping his hands as he tried to thrash again. "Cut it out, Fitz."

"You're lying, May. Please, tell me you're lying," Fitz pleaded. May felt her heart constrict as she took in his teary expression. How he still had that tiny bit of hope, she had no idea.

"Fitz.."

"It's not fair." And then Fitz was crying. Silently, but crying all the same. "She can't.. not after down there.."

"Fitz, please. Let us call the doctor, he'll give you some shock relief pills, test your reflexes-"

"I should have seen it. I should have.. called it. She'll.. she'll.." he grunted in frustration, "she'll come back. She_ will._"

"No one could have seen it, Fitz," Skye choked out in a gentle tone. "We were all tricked."

"_Please._ Just leave me alone."

They retreated quietly, with heavy hearts and an overwhelming gap where Simmons used to be, because the only person who could cheer Fitz up was the one person who had caused all this mess.

...

Fitz wasn't sure when, or how, or why she appeared so suddenly. But one second she wasn't, and the next she was there, smiling serenely down at him and a warm shine in her gaze. They were alone in his bunk, with his hands bandaged up and several medication pills lying on the table beside him. He was in a strange place, with more than half of the team missing, a dysfunctional brain and without the aid of his very best friend.

But now she was here. And everything was better. Some part of him knew she wasn't real. His sub-concious told him so, but it was drowned out amongst all the other emotions raging through him like a coursing river in the thick of a storm. Her presence was like a warm candle glow in a shadowy forest, and it embraced him and made him feel... better. Like his mind was clear, like no one else could touch him or spoil his mood in that particular moment.

He knew that something was wrong, that he was terribly, terribly broken, but right now he wasn't sure that it mattered all that much. So instead he gave her a tiny smile of greeting, and relief, and all the other emotions mixed between.

"Simmons."


	5. Flight

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **Okay, here's the next chapter. This is when it starts to move into Shadows, as you'll start to notice. We'll mainly avoid scenes such as ones in the show, mainly focusing on the gaps in between and Simmons's and Ward's side of things. I am.. so very excited for the next episode, you have no idea. At any rate, hope you enjoyed this chapter, I typed like a serious madman to get this one up today.

**CHAPTER FIVE: Flight**

Simmons stared in the mirror for a long time. There was nothing particularly different about her. It was only her hair, after all. But still, a tiny part of her was remorseful. Cutting her hair meant cutting her losses. Leaving behind the team, the friends (and she said friends with some heavy sarcasm) and the life that she had adapted to while travelling on the Bus. It meant.. breaking loose from that life, from that old Jemma. If Simmons had to work with Hydra, she had to do it efficiently. Or so Raina said. It was a good thing, Simmons tried to reason. It would make the cut cleaner, burn the bridge of trust completely instead of the tiny tracks of hope that she had left behind with the Playground.

But somehow, staring into the mirror at her own pitiful, _selfish_ reflection, she didn't see it that way.

Closing her eyes, Simmons set the scissors down gently on the table. Raina had told her that Hydra had a cheap hairdressing service working for them, but Simmons had refused. If she was going to have her hair cut, she was going to do it herself.

Sitting in the eerily still silence of the tiny room she had been given, Simmons allowed her thoughts to wander. It was a choice that she regretted immediately. Every time she closed her eyes, her sudden betrayal flashed like a neon sign. Skye's horror, Coulson's disbelief, May's harsh acceptance and Fitz's lifeless body. As for Triplett.. well, she could only imagine that he hadn't taken it well either.

Swallowing, she forced her eyes back open and crossed over to the tiny porthole window that looked out over the clear blue-sky. They were in some sort of Hydra plane, possibly stolen from SHIELD themselves. It reminded her all too much of the Bus, and in some sick, twisted way, she was pretty sure Raina had intended for her to feel that way.

As she gazed at the wisps of white cloud drifting lazily past the window, she wondered where exactly it was that they were going. Everyone refused to tell her even a tiny tidbit of information, all stating that they had been ordered from Raina not to spill. She knew why. It was for the same reason that they had a guard sleep in the bunker next door to hers. The same reason that she had a monitor on her wrist. They didn't trust her.

Good. She didn't want them to trust her. Jemma Simmons did not want to be affiliated with Hydra. How had she dug herself so deep down this hole?

"Enjoying the view, Simmons?" She didn't have to turn around to know who was at her door, dipping her head in silent acceptance.

"I cut my hair."

"Well, aren't you just a perfect little lapdog?" Raina said slyly, her lips tilting up into something that resembled a tiny smile. "Almost like Ward."

Simmons didn't bother to respond, but at that moment she desperately wished she hadn't put the scissors down.

"I have some good news for you," Raina announced breezily, and this time she sounded genuine. Simmons watched her from the corner of her eye, pretending that she was still looking out the window, although she doubted that Raina was fooled for a second.

"What is it?"

"I think you'll want to come and see for yourself."

...

Simmons felt the tears sprung to her eyes involuntarily, her hands gripping the underside of the table with stiff fingers. "He's awake."

"I told you," Raina answered simply, cocking an eyebrow. "I keep my promises."

Simmons leaned closer to the video projected up on the wall, holding her breath tightly as she studied the projection carefully. "The serum worked. He looks perfectly fine. It's a medical miracle, almost like the GH-325," she couldn't help but gasp, shaking her head and turning to Raina for clarification.

"What do you know about GH-325, Doctor Simmons?" Raina questioned slyly, leaning on the table and drumming at the files underneath her hands with poised elegance. "We have the full report on Leopold Fitz's condition right in this file. We also have a Hydra mole in their facilities, one that just so happens to be in charge of Mr Fitz, here. We could give you any information on Fitz that you so wish for.. as long as you ensure your loyalty to Hydra." Her eyes became steel, and Simmons took a moment to compose herself, swallowing thickly.

She'd been expecting a price, of course. That was the thing about working with Hydra. No one gave you anything out of the compassion of their hearts. You had to work for it, pay for it, bribe your way in. There was always a price. This was Simmons's. Could she do it? She stared at the file tucked neatly under Raina's grasp for a long moment, and then flickered her gaze back to the screen.

Fitz sat in the lab, having his joints tested by a doctor. He looked as normal as ever, if a bit pale and shocked. But when Simmons took a closer look, she caught a strange expression in his eyes. He was.. dazed. Or confused. Maybe even frustrated. Something - an emotion - that she couldn't entirely make out. She was so, so curious. And everything she wanted to know was in that file, just out of her reach. She was already stuck with Hydra, a simple little promise wouldn't change anything, right?

"I swear my loyalty," she said finally, the words coming out with an exhale of breath.

Raina merely smiled and held out the folders. "Enjoy the flight, Simmons."

...

"How long have you been looking through those papers?" The voice was so unexpected, Simmons snapped the reports closed in surprise, jerking her head up to apologise to whatever unsuspecting guard had walked in on her room.

But it wasn't a guard. It was Ward, looking far more cleaned up then she had seen in a long time, with a cleanly shaved face and clothes that weren't prison-related. Simmons swallowed back any retorts and looked back down at the papers without another word. She didn't quite trust herself to speak to Ward. Not yet. Not now, not while she was reading through the reports of the incident that Ward had caused.

"What are they?" Ward sounded strangely hopeful, something that made Simmons want to laugh out loud at. She had long since stopped thinking of Ward as hopeful. Not since he had betrayed them. And yet again.. was she any different? They had both left the team, both backstabbed and betrayed everyone they cared about. Well, she wasn't entirely sure if Ward cared for anyone. He had joined Hydra willingly, under the influence of Garret. Simmons had somehow dug herself a hole and gotten sucked in a whirlpool of no escape. He seemed to sense what she was thinking, as he relaxed his stance against the wall, his next words quiet. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Simmons said sharply. She'd said it all too quickly, but she hadn't meant to say anything at all. It was hard to ignore the very person that you wanted to curse and scream at. Jemma was not a cold-hearted person. But she did not believe in forgiving someone that she despised, someone who had been cruel, or selfish. Someone like Ward. Someone like herself.

"Are you sorry?" Ward questioned, his eyebrows lifted in something that resembled innocence.

It was then that Simmons wanted to kick him, instead focusing intensely on the files. "I have nothing to be sorry for."

"Are you sure about that?" And there it was. Ward had hit it in the sore spot. Simmons snapped her head up at him, eyes narrowed in irritation. Because the truth was, she didn't know.

"What are you sorry for, Ward?" She bursted out suddenly, slamming the files shut with sudden anger. "For.. for dropping us into the ocean? For killing ruthlessly, betraying the team in cold-blood?"

"All of the above," Ward answered simply, giving a tiny shrug of his shoulders. "But it was in my job description. Garret ordered me to. I expect you to understand, of all people. Right now, you're following Raina's instructions like a lost puppy."

"You sicken me," Simmons hissed, glaring daggers at her former team mate. Was it true? Was she really following Raina blindly? She had been blackmailed.. right?

"See? You're becoming more Hydra already," Ward pointed out, his dry laugh echoing like thunder in her ears. Simmons got to her feet and pushed the files into his grasp heavily, dodging past him. She wasn't going to talk to this traitor anymore. It hurt too much. Every time she looked at him, she was only reminded of the man who had dropped a box into the ocean.

"Wait!" Ward called as she was rushing down the hallway. "Don't you want to know where we're going?"

Simmons halted suddenly, her feet poised in the action of fleeing. She didn't look back, but she knew stopping would give him the signal to continue speaking.

"Raina said.. she said something about picking up a man. Someone who they'd broken out. Someone who was powerful, and dangerous."

...

"That session went incredibly well, Fitz. Even in the short amount of time we've had, you're getting better."

Fitz tried to ignore Simmons's bright smile as she hovered around him. The doctor had been nice. Simmons was being nice. But they all knew what was happening. Fitz's temporal lobe had been damaged. That wasn't something he could just.. bounce back from, no matter how many times Simmons insisted.

"Yeah, well," Fitz muttered darkly, leaning over a bench and peering at the remains of a machine on his bench. He wasn't supposed to be working, his doctor had deemed him more therapy and rest, but no one checked on him anyway, and there had been several broken ICER's lying on the table. Fitz was scared to try, but he had to see just how affected he was. "Better isn't enough for me to get back in the team."

"You don't need to get back in the team immediately," she said kindly. "It's only been a few days. Really, it's a miracle that you've gotten better so quickly."

Fitz fiddled with the parts in his hand, frowning when he couldn't figure it out. "I'm sure that the.. the.." He snapped his fingers, the word refusing to come to mind. It was like it was right there, on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite grasp it, not completely. "What's the word, Simmons?"

"Oh, Fitz." Simmons reached for the parts gently, and Fitz recoiled quickly, pulling the pieces away as quick as possible. Panic rose in his throat, although he couldn't fathom why.

"No! Don't.. don't touch anything."

"I was just trying to show you-"

"-_no_," Fitz said forcefully, trying desperately to ignore the way her eyes darkened slightly. "Please, Simmons. I can do it. I just.. I just need a little bit more time. And-"

"Fitz!" He stopped speaking immediately, whirling around in guilt as he saw May enter the lab with a careful look about her. Dropping the broken gun, he gave May a weak smile, surprised to see her eyes crinkle in concern. "How are you holding up?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm," he shot a side glance to Simmons, who gave him a brilliant smile in support, "fine. I'm.. I'm.." His eyes clouded over in frustration, and May carried on quickly.

"That's good. I'm really sorry, Fitz, but I have orders from Coulson. You know that SHIELD is undercover right now. That means we can't afford to be flying around in a SHIELD plane for the world to see. And we can't travel in cars all the time. We need something to conceal us. We need a cloaking device."

"And you want me to build it," Fitz guessed, realisation dawning on him slowly.

"There's no one else who can," May said gently, giving him an apologetic smile, something that was.. strange. "Can you do it?"

"A.. a cloaking device. I think..." another smile of encouragement from Simmons, and he nodded, "yeah. I think I can just about manage it."

May gave a reluctant smile, her next words seemingly reluctant. "Do you.. need any help?"

"What?" Fitz frowned in confusion, shaking his head. "No. You've never helped us before."

He couldn't shake May's strained smile from his mind.


	6. Protector

**CHAPTER SIX: Protector**

"Why are we chasing this guy down anyway?" Ward spoke, leaning against the table with a type of ease that Simmons didn't think she would ever have when around Raina. Or anywhere near a Hydra member, for that matter.

She stood silently at the table, not speaking a word. In all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure why Raina had called her to the briefing as well. Simmons wasn't needed. She wasn't an ops agent, she was useful only for her academic skills and advanced scientific knowledge. But she didn't protest, instead watching as Raina and Ward talked it out. After all, how could she protest, millions of feet high in the air and surrounded by well-trained guards. Probably brainwashed, the lot of them.

"Because," Raina answered simply, "he is an incredibly useful asset. Once you see his skills... well. At the moment, he's.. procuring something for us. Something that I want. He's stealing something from me, and I want it back."

"You? Don't you mean us? You work for Hydra, not yourself," Ward pointed out, his eyebrows raised in scorn. A dangerous move from him, but then again, Simmons could see why he didn't care. There was nothing left for him to lose. The one man he had followed blindly was dead, and now Ward didn't know who he was or what to do anymore. Simmons would have felt sorry for him, but at the current moment she honestly didn't have the strength to manage that emotion.

"Of course, Ward," Raina smiled, but there was something carefully guarded in her coy gaze. "But I trust that you do indeed remember what we discussed last time we met, after Garret went..."

"Crazy?" Ward supplied drily, his expression one of obvious bitter sarcasm.

"Not crazy," Raina corrected sharply, a surprisingly defensive glint in her eyes. "He saw the world truly, after we gave him what was left of the serum. A waste. He saw the world as it was meant to be seen, even if only for the briefest of moments. That doesn't mean he went crazy. It meant he was _gifted_. A _true_ clairvoyant," she breathed. Not for the first time, Simmons began to doubt the woman's sanity, and what Flower's intentions really were.

"And now he's gone," Ward scoffed, his eyes full of steel. Simmons knew that whatever had gone on between Ward and his former SO, there had been something deeper. Perhaps even a twisted, cruel version of a father-son bond. No matter how horrifying it was in her eyes, it must have left scars of pain against his heart. Jemma Simmons did not feel sympathy for the traitor.

"Gone, yes," Raina confirmed breezily, a sly smirk tilting the corners of her lips up. "But the monsters are not. Not from you." She leaned forward into Ward's space, her smile something crueler now, something that sent shivers crawling down Simmons's spine. "Not from _her_."

Ward thumped his hands on the table, causing Simmons to take an alarmed step back quickly, flinching from the sudden movement. "_Don't_ make this about her," he panted harshly, and Simmons had to wonder who this woman is, the one who meant so much to Ward, the one who was apparently a monster. Despite the situation, her natural curious nature prickled inquisitively.

"Then don't ask difficult questions," Raina snapped sharply. For a split second, she looked worried, but a mask of cool indifference slid over her face so quickly that Simmons wasn't sure if she had actually seen anything in the first place.

For a moment, the two stood in tense silence before Ward finally held his hands up in the universal surrender sign, his eyes beady with suspicion. "Go on then, _Flowers_," he said, his voice taking on a mock condescending tone.

Raina only cricked her neck and brushed it over quickly, reaching a hand out to tap at the map on the table screen. Her nail-polished finger tapped at a pulsing red signal and she gave a tiny smile to Simmons.

"Agent Marx.." A short man with a closely shaved head snapped to attention immediately at the sound of his name, raising a hand up to his head in a stiff salute.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Tell the others to keep a close eye on our little friend," Raina instructed, but her gaze was hazy as she stared at the signal with a sly grin of something that gave Simmons a chill. Triumph. Victory. Raina was happy about something, and that wasn't necessarily a good thing. "You can't outrun us forever, Creel."

...

"I see that you're holding up your promise." May clutched the handle of the phone close to her ear, eyes darting furtively around the vicinity just in case anyone should happen to overhear. It was a foolish wariness, as May had found herself a quiet spot in one of the only solitary places at the Playground - her bunker. She wasn't sure why she was being so anxious right in the safety of her bunker, but there was no harm in being cautious. She was, after all, speaking to the Director himself.

"_Of course_." The voice crackled over the phone and into her ear. Even with the strange static and the occasional cut out of words, May took a strange comfort in hearing Coulson's voice. It had been eating away at her the day before, worry for his well-being. Being the Director just placed a bigger target sign above his head, and it only made things worse when he rushed off on his own with no back up on hand in case things went wrong.

May's eyes flickered around the room, and she gripped the phone more tightly. Judging by Coulson's tone of voice, he hadn't called for a friendly chat. He wanted something. She should have guessed. "Where are you calling from?" She tried to delay the inevitable bad news. For once in her life, she wanted to avoid the task that he no doubt had for her.

"_You know I can't tell you that._" She could hear his sigh even over the phone, and she almost joined in, pressing her lips together into a tight line.

"How is everything going?"

There was a pause before she received an answer, and she could tell he was weary. "_I can't say that it's good_."

"Right," May actually sighed this team, eyes darting up to stare at the door to her room. "I have another condition," she added on impulse, even though the words she were about to mutter had been turning over her mind throughout the night.

"_Yeah_?"

"I don't want you going on field missions."

"_You know I can't do that. I have responsibilities, I have protect the soldiers. How can they be expected to follow my orders when I sit behind a desk in safety_?" Coulson didn't sound surprised, but that didn't stop him from sounding stubbornly determined.

May closed her eyes. She hadn't been expecting it to be easy, she had anticipated his protesting. However, it was still difficult to argue with him, especially when he was so adamant on the topic. "Phil.."

"_For once, May, I'm overriding you. I am not standing back, do you hear me? Who will protect them if I don't-"_

"I will."

The silence that followed was almost humorous. "_What_?"

"I'll go out there. Like you said, you've got responsibilities. As a Director, not a field agent. We can't have you dying on us. Let us take care of the field stuff, Coulson. We're trained for this, remember? We'll take the bullets, so you don't have to."

"_I can't let you do that, May_."

"Yes," May added force into her tone, hoping to knock some common sense into him. "Yes, you can. We'll be your line of defence, we'll be your protectors so you can get the job done."

"_Melinda_-"

"I don't want to die either, Phil!" May kicked out at the bed railing in sudden anger. "I want any of them to die! But right now, you're more important than the rest of us. We understand. I'm not doing this just for you, Phil. I'm doing this for SHIELD. You've taken care of us so many times. Let us do the same." Her voice grew softer with every sentence and again there was a long pause, only occasional crackles and background noise filtering through the call to bridge the gaps together.

"_I'm not more important than the rest of you_," came the final answer.

When May spoke again, her voice was tired. "_Please_, Phil."

"_I'll stay away from field missions._" May sank into her bed in a strange sort of relief, turning to stare at the blank wall in silence. "_But if you think for a second that I'm letting you protect me, you're wrong_."

"Thank you. I know." She received no answer in response, but she knew that he had heard it and accepted the thanks, even if he wasn't too happy about it. They sat in silence for a minute, before May finally cleared her head. "What did you want?"

"_What_?"

"You should know that you can't fool me by now," she answered simply, if a tad blunt. "I know you're not calling just to speak to me. What do you want us to do, Coulson?"

When he spoke again, May noted that he seemed reluctant. Almost.. apologetic. May brushed it aside quickly. There was no time for apologies. Right now, all that mattered was the task at hand.

"_I've just been having a chat with an.. old friend of mine. Isabelle Hartley and her group. They're merceneries, I sent them on a hunt for a very suspicious 084_."

"Merceneries?" May frowned in disapproval. "They'll just stick around for the money, how can you be sure that they're to be trusted?"

"_That's why I want you to tail them. Follow them in secret, see what they're up to. Only step in if absolutely necessary. That's an order, do you understand_?"

"Loud and clear. When do we need to go?"

"_I'll send you the details. It's not safe enough on the phone_."

"Okay."

"_Listen, I've got to go. Take care of the team._" The words made May smile faintly, and she nodded despite the fact that he couldn't see her.

"Will do."

"_And May? Take care of yourself, too_."

"No guarantees."


End file.
